I ran the BMO Vancouver Marathon three weeks ago. And I choked. “What happened!?!” you ask? To be honest, I’m not quite sure. I wish I had a reason or an excuse that I could turn to, to explain why things just didn’t come together. Even during the latter half of the race, my mind frantically began to scavenge for any possible explanation that could justify why things fell apart, but there was nothing. No nagging injury, no weather catastrophe, no shoe or gear malfunction, no tummy troubles, I didn’t take a wrong turn, I didn’t really go out too fast, there weren’t too many hills. Couldn’t use the old “the altitude made it feel harder than usual” trick since I was literally at sea level. I was well tapered, rested and hydrated. My playlist was wicked, my outfit was cute and my hair was even cuter. I couldn’t even find a stubborn blister or patch of chafed skin to point the blame at. I searched and I searched for reasons and each time I came to the humbling, punch-in-the-face realization that I was just not as fast as I thought I was.
I registered in November, and started training in January. Since then, I visualized race weekend in Vancouver oh so many times. I picked Vancouver because it falls on the first weekend in May, which meant I could get road marathon training season over with early and switch to the trails immediately after. I also figured it wouldn’t be too hot. And most importantly, the course is a Boston Qualifier and a relatively flat route. I ran a 3:35:06 in October, so I knew with 16 weeks of training under my belt, I could very easily chip away that time and finally get that Boston Qualifying time; done and dusted. I shifted my focus from trying to qualify for Boston, to “how far below that qualifying time can I get?”, as I assumed the qualifying part was a given. Starting in January, I followed a training plan targeting a 3:20-3:25 finish time. I found I was able to hit the 3:20 pace workouts comfortably for long and tempo runs, but the shorter, more aggressive interval paces suggested for a 3:20 finish were not always achievable. When interested friends asked me about my goal and how training was going, I was confident in saying that I was targeting a 3:20 marathon.
In the weeks leading up to the May 7th race, I did some reevaluating of my goals and wrote them down. I actually meant to write this blog before the race but alas, questionable time management got the best of me yet again! I had been noticing that I wasn’t recovering as quickly as usual, and I was feeling very generally tired. So I came up with the following list of prioritized goals, to remind myself that you need to have a backup plan on race day, so that if shit hits the fan, you still have something to work for. Here they are:
- Run a race that you will be proud of. This means don’t go out to fast. Feel like you are at a comfortable pace for the first half, and then turn on the jets after the half way mark if you are feeling it
- Qualify for Boston and set a PR, which are essentially one and the same.
- Go for a 3:25 finish, this is a reasonable goal based on the training runs you’ve put in and if you have a day where you’re feeling good, 3:20 may also be in reach.
- Not have any “digestive” issues. I’m sorry, but if you’re a runner and you try and tell me that you don’t have the goal of “don’t have to poop during the race” for every race, you’re a damned liar. Or you have a very twisted sense of adventure.
I elected to drive from Banff to Vancouver on the Friday, because road trips are fun and because I am cheap. Plus it created a lot of time to just chill out with my own thoughts, and take a mental break from everything. The drive went surprisingly smoothly considering every freaking road in the Rockies seemed to be blocked by some sort of avalanche, rock slide or construction. One small, stupid-head moment was making the mistake of leaving my cruise control on departing Kamloops and transferring onto the Coquihalla. It was getting hot out, and my engine revved so hard trying to power up the hills on cruise control that it overheated and I had to take a little break on the side of the road to let it cool down. In hindsight, perhaps this was a bad omen for things to come.
I was so excited! A day I had fantasized about, envisioned and worked towards for months was finally here. As I drove I processed many messages from friends and family telling me “Good luck!” and “You’re going to nail it” and I was thinking to myself, “Yeah, yeah I am.”. I had done everything right, I was feeling super prepared and excited for what I was about to achieve. I knew my goals were aggressive, but I also knew I had put in the work and that if I did not meet them, I would at least come close. I think I expected it to feel almost easy. That, right there, was probably my biggest mistake.
I arrived in Vancouver to…..sun!? SUN!? Was I really in Vancouver? The weather fit well with what I envisioned for race day. With the sun out, I would be able to fully take in the beauty of the ocean and cherry blossoms during the race and cruise across the finish line some time between 11:45 and noon-ish. I would find Heather and my friend Sam at the finish line and we would celebrate. I could picture us on a sunny patio enjoying caesars and an epic post race meal. I mean, I had literally picked out the caesar I was going to order; see below:
The Race
Pretty standard, a classic marathon story; I nailed it the first 30 km and then died. Things started to slip, as they often do in the last 10-12km for me. I half-assedly fought to keep my pace under 5 min/km but instead of fighting harder and harder, instead of using the fear of my goal slipping through my fingers to motivate me to hold on, I found myself less and less willing to work for it. I remember seeing the 3:30 pace bunny and his faithful followers pass me around 32km (I had been yoyo-ing with them the entire race, they had been running slightly ahead of pace) and suddenly there truly were no fucks left to give. I approached and made my way through the last 10 km of the race with a “let’s just get this over with” mindset and convinced myself that it wasn’t a big deal and, “Oh well! We’ll get em next time!”.
That worked well until the last 1500m of the race when crowds started to form along the course and things really hit me. I became very overwhelmed with disappointment and embarked upon a rhythmic pattern of 4:45/km running, sobbing, and intermittent walking. The closer I got to the finish, the more I was compelled to walk, so I did. My sulky-walking-pout-parade to the finish was rudely interrupted by an overly joyful middle-aged runner who came up behind and started yelling at me, with his arms in the air and a big smile on his face; “Come on! You can do this! Yeah! Awesome! You’re going to run now! Let’s go! Almost there! Woooo! You run now!”.
Dude, sense the tone. I was not in the mood for his over-exuberance, but I just listened to him and ran when he yelled at me, and I half loathed and half loved him. I would run a few hundred meters until I was feeling lazy again, and walk until he caught up with me and repeated “Come on! You can do this! Yeah! Awesome! You’re going to run now! Let’s go! Almost there! Woooo! You run now!”. Not awesome, but okay. This actually makes me laugh pretty hard as I write this, to envision this guy so obliviously and relentlessly positive and immune to the inner-bitch that was erupting inside of me. I could take a page out of his book, me thinks.
After the Race
I crossed the finish line in 3:36 something, an outcome I had not even considered for this race as a possibility. A year ago, I would have been over the moon to have achieved that time, but I held myself to a new standard now. I ran into Amber at the finish line. She absolutely murdered the race, finishing in 3:24 something, far exceeding her own expectations, I was so happy for her! She gave me a big hug and tried to talk some sense into me, reminding me that 3:36 is still a great time and that I will get it next time. I appreciated her very much then, though I was not going to be easily convinced to be patient. Either way, I was getting less and less focused on my finish time as my attention was redirected to the pukey feelings that were beginning to take over me. I’ll spare you the details, but it would be 5 hours before I could keep any water or food down, and I never did get that caesar. Thank you to Sam for being such a lovely host, cheering me on and taking such good care of me, that day would have sucked way harder without you there!!!!
I drove back to Banff the next day in pouring rain almost the entire trip. GOOD, I thought to myself. I suck, and the weather sucks, everything can suck together. I was trying to decide what I was feeling, and I think more than anything, I felt ashamed. I felt embarrassed for choosing and advertising such an aggressive goal and landing so far from it. The voice in my head said “Ha! Of course you can’t run a 3:20 you idiot! You can’t even run a 3:30! What were you thinking!?” I got a few texts and messages from friends who tracked my time and asked “Whoa! What happened!?” and I felt embarassed to not really have an excuse. I just couldn’t do it. I sort of felt like an imposter.
It’s been a few weeks and I’ve thought about it a lot, and I’m not really bothered by it anymore. There is a big difference between “I can’t run a 3:20 marathon” and “I can’t run a 3:20 marathon yet“. I have been reflecting on my expectations for races, and have realized that I always envision the race feeling easy because I have trained so hard. We all know that the opposite is true, and that no matter how hard we train, the race (whether it’s a 5k or 100 miler) is going to be hard and somewhat painful, you’ll just theoretically yield a faster time if you’re better trained. I don’t think I prepared myself to have to fight for it, and if I’m ever going to explore what I am fully capable of physically, I need to learn to unlock that mental strength as well.
I wish I could say that I always have a positive attitude and outlook, as I really admire people that do (or that do most of the time). People say not to be hard on yourself, that xx:xx:xx is still a great time and that you should be so proud! But why can’t I be hard on myself, within reason? I wanted to share how I truly felt about this race, that it’s okay to get upset, to have a tantrum, to be disappointed, to maybe admit that its hard to accept when you just aren’t where you thought you were. But I also wanted to share my opinion that pretty soon after, you need to get over it, let it go, and move on to the next thing. Use it as fuel for the next fire.
Speaking of next, you know what really helps put races behind you? When you have LOTS OF OTHER RACES COMING UP! I semi-impromptu signed up for the Calgary Marathon tomorrow. I haven’t tapered or done any formal road training for the last few weeks; just lot’s of trail miles and hills, so I don’t know what to expect. On paper, one would assume that I would be slower than Vancouver since I haven’t really rested or trained specifically, but I’m excited to give it a go and maybe experiment a bit, as I have nothing to lose. Worst case scenario, it’s a nice long training run, which I’ll need lot’s of, because SINISTER 7 IS ONLY 6 WEEKS AWAY HOLY SHIT.
This one time I went running 